Spelling It Out
by BrunetteAuthorette99
Summary: After the Subspace Emissary Crisis and the establishment of tournaments, Samus is having trouble adjusting to the company of the other Smashers. Cue the intervention of Master Hand and some simple therapy. One-shot.


**[A/N] What you are reading right now is a random oneshot that I wrote shortly after the completion of "The Dare, the Dress, and the 'Desperado.'" When reading SSBB fanfics, it's usually assumed that they take place after the Subspace Emissary storyline. This oneshot, originally called "The Sh!t List" (but the title was changed for obvious reasons), sprung from me wondering how some of the Smashers would adjust to dealing with others who were _sort of_ like them on a daily basis.  
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**It might be just me, but I think Samus would have a tough time with that.  
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**************[DISCLAIMER] I do not own SSBB or any of its characters or related trademarks, etc., etc. If I did, I would make the soundtrack available.  
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* * *

**_SPELLING__ IT OUT_  
**

Samus Aran was used to isolation. When she had been a bounty huntress after leaving the army of the Galactic Federation, she had always completed her jobs alone and she had _never_ had a problem with it. She just didn't play well with others.

But after the Subspace Emissary incident, she had been appealed by some of the other Smashers to stay on the (recently restored) Isle of the Ancients. Just to get them off her back, she hastily agreed – and was seriously regretting it now.

Samus was troubled by something that she had _never_ cared about before now: exclusion.

She didn't know any of the others too well, and she didn't make any effort to make friends of them. She kept telling herself that she'd leave at some point and the emotional ties would only hinder her.

Besides, the only one she _truly_ liked was Pikachu. Unlike everyone else, he didn't judge or avoid her. And unlike the small yellow Pokémon, she didn't have patience with any of the other Smashers. They were irritating, rude, disturbing, and in general, set her teeth on edge…

Her frustration had been starting to break through her cool façade – enough so that she was summoned to Master Hand's study today.

And she didn't take too kindly to people trying to pick apart her mind.

"_Ms. Aran – Samus – please." The giant white glove impatiently tapped his pointer finger on the floor. "There's no need to be so _rude._ I just want to figure out what's going on._

"_Now," he went on, ignoring her stony glare, "are you having any… _trouble_ from the other Smashers?"_

_Samus shrugged. "Nothing I can't take care of." _By not giving a damn.

"_Yes, you _are_ more than capable of dealing with crises. I merely wish to assist in any way I can. Are they bothering you?"_

"_Indirectly."_

"_So it's their habits and mannerisms, then?"_

_She nodded stiffly._

" _I see…" Master Hand mused. "Ms. Aran, would you be so kind to meet me back here tomorrow? Bring a list of why the Smashers upset you. Thank you, and good-bye."_

_And just like that, she was dismissed._

The blonde bounty huntress slumped at her desk, gripping a chewed pencil in her hand and staring at the same faded piece of notebook paper that she had pulled out of a drawer fifteen minutes ago.

She didn't even know _what_ Master Hand was attempting to accomplish by having her make a list. It was easy enough to compile an agenda of objectives in her head, but physically _write _something? Her handwriting sucked, but the worst part was that it would be revealing. Revealing of what she _truly_ thought. For a moment, she had a horrible vision of her list tacked up on the bulletin board in the cafeteria and everyone reading it.

_Why do I_ _even _care_ about that? _Samus snorted. _What the hell. Couldn't hurt. _She carefully printed six words in the top margin:

**_Why the Smashers Piss Me Off_**

She scrutinized it, crossed it out, and wrote a new title beside it.

**_Why I Don't Like ANY of the Smashers_**

_My handwriting's actually not that terrible. _Samus paused, thoughtfully tapping the pencil on the edge of the desk.

Then she started writing furiously.

Mario and his _constantly_ mentioning that he was "the most beloved video game character in the world." The painful shyness of Luigi and Olimar. Link's social awkwardness. The snooty, regal airs of Zelda and the overwhelming girlishness of Peach. The lack of intelligence of Donkey Kong's and King Dedede's. Bowser's roaring and Diddy Kong's incessant shrieking.

Fox, Falco, and Wolf – all of them considering themselves as "ladies' men." The never-ending appetites of Yoshi and Wario, eggs and garlic respectively. The completely absurd appearances of Kirby and Jigglypuff, two pink puffballs too many. Pit's horrible jokes and pick-up lines. Ness' constant cheer, and in stark contrast, Lucas' fear of _everything._

R.O.B.'s lack of emotion. The stubbornness of the always-whiny Pokémon Trainer. Lucario's stony silence. Meta Knight's ridiculous theatrics. Captain Falcon constantly hitting on her. Sonic's cockiness and Ganondorf's malevolent presence.

All night, she sat at the desk, outpouring her anger and frustration and loneliness through her rapidly scribbling pencil and into the paper – too much of it.

* * *

That morning, after a long night of fury, Samus finally read her list for the first time.

She began to feel a little remorse. With her near-dull pencil, she began to cross off some names. More and more names were slashed through until almost none remained.

Maybe Marth really _was_ straight and Ike didn't have anger issues. Perhaps Mr. Game and Watch just wanted a little attention for his shadow puppet shows. The Ice Climbers weren't really all _that_ threatening, and neither was Toon Link; the latter was merely perpetually hyper.

In the future, she might practice her gymnastics skills with Sheik. Go down to the shooting range with Snake. Bond with Pikachu a little bit more.

Get to know them. _All_ of them.

_Then_ she could pass judgment a little more fairly.


End file.
